“Did you?” she asked.
“Sure did,” I admitted. “How could I not? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” She smiled shyly as she pulled her robe closed. “I taught you too well,” I teased. “You don’t even need me anymore.”
“That’s not true,” she countered. “I need you more than you know.”
“I miss the hell out of you.”
“I miss you more.”
We held each other’s gaze momentarily. “I should probably go take a shower,” I said.
“Yeah, I need to get some sleep. I have to be back at the hospital in the morning.”
“Three more weeks,” I said before ending our call.
“Three more weeks,” she echoed, blowing me a kiss. The satisfied glow on her face stayed with me as I showered and as I climbed into bed. I couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d said she needed me more. I knew it wasn’t true. She might have thought I saved her, that I brought her back to life after years of living with the dead, but I’d never felt more alive than when I was with her. Which was saying a lot, considering my career choice.
The thrill of flying through the air didn’t even come close to the thrill of knowing Georgia Bennett loved me.
A few days after my little FaceTime performance, I was feeling pretty confident about my ability to make my relationship with Brett work. Each day we spent apart meant we were one day closer to seeing each other. Nora would be home the week after next to start her wedding plans and then the two of us would be driving Brett’s vehicle back to Texas.
Between studying and sleeping, I decided that I’d spend the weekend pulling all of my old wedding planning ideas from the folder in my closet.
“You know where I’m talking about,” I told Nora over the phone. I called her to see if she wanted me to set up some appointments with vendors for when she came back to town. “Hawthorne Winery,” I said again. “It’s that big farm halfway between here and St. Louis. “We’ve driven by it a thousand times.”
“I think I remember,” she said. “Let me pull it up on the Internet.” I gave her a second, as I thumbed through the brochure I’d found in my stash.
“It’s so pretty,” I told her. It was on the shortlist of venues I wanted to use, but Jamie and I had settled on getting married at our family church in Halstead. Iris had thought the winery was a bit too nontraditional, which meant it was perfect for Nora and Reid. “And there are quite a few hotels nearby.”
“Oh, yeah,” she agreed, confirming that she’d found their website. “It’s gorgeous. Look at the little chapel.”
“Right?” The winery was set on twenty acres and came complete with a chapel and small hall for a reception. As pretty as it was in the photographs of it during summer, I couldn’t wait to see the ground covered in snow. The rolling hills that surrounded it, all glistening and white. It would make for great photographs of my sister’s wedding. “Should I call and set up a tour?”
“Yep,” she said. “I think it’s perfect. You’re really taking this wedding thing seriously. I guess I’ll have to make you maid of honor.”
“Who else were you going to ask?” I joked.
“True.” She laughed. “You are my favorite sister after all.”
“I’m your only sister,” I deadpanned.
As we chatted about wedding colors and whether or not Nora should hire a band for the big day, I kept pulling items out of my closet that I’d forgotten about. Iris had suggested that I donate some of Jamie’s things, so I might as well add my own clutter to the mix. My senior prom dress had somehow ended up in a ball in the back corner, along with a few mismatched shoes and a handful of lip glosses that had fallen out of old purses I’d tossed in there.
I decided that now was as good a time as any to purge the mess that was surrounding me. I tossed the prom dress into a pile that I’d be donating to Goodwill along with three pairs of jeans I was never going to wear again, and enough leopard print to choke Snooki.
Why was this a thing?
“Why do I have so much stuff?” I asked Nora.
“What are you doing? I thought we were wedding planning.”
“I can clean out my closet and wedding plan at the same time,” I told her. “I’m a great multi-tasker,” I said, pulling empty hangers out and tossing them on the bed.
“Hey, be glad you have it all. I’m living out of a suitcase at the moment and have worn the same shirt twice this week.”
“Oh, what a hard life you live,” I jested. “Must be terrible sleeping with your boyfriend, I mean, fiancé,” I corrected, “every night.”
“Quit it,” she replied, sensing my jealousy. “You’ll be here soon enough. Sleeping in that Airstream of Sin doing god knows what with Brett.”
“Airstream of what?”
“Never mind,” she said.
“Nora.”
“Sin... it’s just something that Reid and Hoyt used to say,” she explained. I knew exactly what she was talking about. Brett’s past with women and all of the things he used to do in that trailer of his. “It won’t be like that anymore, though. He’s different now.”
“I hope so,” I said.
“He is. We had dinner the other night and I can tell that he’s head over heels for you. He wouldn’t shut up about you.”
It made me smile to know that he’d been talking about me, but I couldn’t stop the thoughts of him in that Airstream from threatening my happiness. Add it to the list of things I was going to have to okay with. Not only was his job dangerous, but he was going to be the object of other women’s desires. I’d never really been a jealous person and I was going to try my damnedest not to become one.
“Well,” I said with a huff. “Looks like I’ll be pressure washing the inside of his camper when I’m finished with my closet.”
* * *
Two hours later, I was finishing up The Great Closet Purge of 2015. I’d somehow gotten sidetracked with my drawers, pulling old sweaters and downsizing the massive collections of black leggings I’d accumulated. Ten pairs seemed like enough to keep me dressed. I placed eight into the donate pile.
My phone chimed and it took me a solid five minutes to dig it out from underneath the mess I’d made. I had to be a special breed—making a bigger mess by trying to clean up. My closet looked phenomenal though. I’d even color coordinated all my shirts, the rainbow effect it created—from red to purple—across the bar was soothing to my organizational soul.
The box in the corner that I’d been avoiding all day was even more prominent next to organized boots and shoes. I looked down at my phone in my hand to see a message from Brett.
Brett: What’s up?
Me: Cleaning. You?
Brett: Riding.
Me: You shouldn’t motocross and text.
Brett: Funny girl. I’m watching videos of me riding at the moment.
Me: And here I thought you only liked to watch videos of me.
Brett: Those are my favorite.
I snickered to myself as I tossed my phone down on my bed, unable to keep from pulling that box that I knew had Jamie’s clothes in it. He wasn’t coming back. I didn’t need all of his things to remind me of that anymore. He’d want me to give his things to someone who could use them. I had photographs and memories of him, which were all I needed.
Pulling the lid off the box, I felt strong. I felt ready, but the second I saw his extra set of Army fatigues sitting my heart fell into my stomach. The thought of him sitting in that Humvee, riding along with his unit buddies, thinking they were doing a standard security check. I could only imagine what had happened that day. The Army was pretty brief about what had happened to him. I’d seen enough movies and television shows for my mind to create the scenario.